


wild card

by wariangle



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 12:03:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3568913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wariangle/pseuds/wariangle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What brings you here, Queen Kwenthrith?" Lagertha asks. She turns her back to her and reaches on hand up to finish untangle the braids in her hair.</p><p>"Curiosity," Kwenthrith says and Lagertha can almost hear the wicked smile in her voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wild card

It is late in the evening when Lagertha retires to the room set up for her in King Ecbert's castle. He had wished for her to stay by his side, in his room, but she had insisted on having her own accommodations. However, this being her last night in Wessex, she would gladly have spent it in his bed, but with all the wine he downed during the feast, he will of no use to her or anyone else for many hours to come.

Her room is lit with the soft, gentle glow of torchlight. The days here doesn't stretch quite as far into the night as they do even in autumn at back home. Lagertha misses home dearly and despite the pride she feels for everything that she has built here, she still cannot wait to return, to let the salty waves carry her back to Hedeby, where the scent of winter will already have begun to linger in the wind when it blows in from the north.

With a sigh, she puts the half-filled goblet she brought from the hall down on a side table and reaches up to unclasp the necklace given to her by Ecbert. The stones glow in the golden light and she considers whether to take it with her or leave it behind. It is a gift from a king after all, and a costly one at that, but for all its beauty and the sincere affection she knows Ecbert does hold for her, there is something sinister about the weight of it in her hand, around her neck.

She puts it down and lifts the goblet anew, pouring the wine out into a basin to replace it with water. She takes a sip, cold enough to clear her head of gloom and stupor, and reaches up with one hand to begin unfurling the braids in her hair. She has just slipped the leather band holding the big braid together off when her door is suddenly wrenched open. Lagertha turns quickly, free hand curling into a fist and the other in a secure grip around the heavy goblet, only to see Kwenthrith stumble into her room, hip banging clumsily into the door as she struggles to close it.

She is not so drunk as she wishes to appear, the Queen of Mercia, Lagertha realizes as the other woman rights herself to meet her gaze with a smile. She lets her hand relax and takes another sip of water. Kwenthrith may be a snake and a woman used to cloak her keen mind and power-hungry heart beneath the mask of female victim-hood men find so comfortable to see gracing a woman's face, but she isn't here to do Lagertha any ill.

"Queen Kwenthrith," Lagertha says. "What an unexpected pleasure."

"Earl Ingstand," Kwenthrith replies, her eyes still intently focused on Lagertha's face. "Lagertha." The edge of her dress have slipped down just a bit, revealing the curve of a pale shoulder. She, too, has brought her goblet from the hall and as she raises it to take a deep gulp of wine, Lagertha's gaze is immediately and unbidden drawn to the column of her throat working as she swallows. Her lips tingle with the phantom sensation of that inexplicable kiss.

"What brings you here, Queen Kwenthrith?" Lagertha asks. She turns her back to her and reaches on hand up to finish untangle the braids in her hair.

"Curiosity," Kwenthrith says and Lagertha can almost hear the wicked smile in her voice.

Lagertha cranes her head to look at her over her shoulder, fingers still working through her hair. She raises an amused eyebrow. "Curiosity?"

Draining her cup and putting it down, Kwenthrith nods and steps forward, drawing near enough to reach out and tease out a strand of blonde hair from among Lagertha's fingers and wind it around her own. Lagertha can smell the wine on her breath, is hopelessly transfixed by the intensity in her eyes.

"I have never licked a woman's cunt," Kwenthrith says, and Lagertha laughs, sudden want coursing through her swiftly like a river as heat pools low in her belly.

If the kiss Kwenthrith stole in the great hall downstairs was searching and tentative, this one is anything but. Kwenthrith makes a soft, small sound as Lagertha's lips find her and surges against her, tongue slipping hungry and sloppily into her mouth. Lagertha feels Kwenthrith fingers at her shoulder, gripping the fabric there, and she smiles into the kiss, briefly catching Kwenthrith's lower lip between her teeth before leaning back.

"Then let us remedy that," Lagertha says, smile widening into a grin, and dips in to press another, quick, kiss to Kwenthrith's lips. She takes a step back, hands going down to the fall of her dress to pull it up over her thighs as she sits down on the edge of her bed, spreading her legs.

Kwenthrith, watching and biting hard into her lip, steps forward in between them, and kisses Lagertha again, hand going to the back of her neck to press their mouths more closely together. Her raven locks brushes across Lagertha's collarbones as she licks against the seam of her lips, slips her tongue inside her mouth. Soon enough, she slides her lips across Lagertha's jaw and leaves a soft kiss against her throat before leaning in to bite at her ear.

Lagertha curls her fingers around her neck, letting them dig in as Kwenthrith's teeth worries the sensitive skin beneath her ear. "Are you stalling, Queen Kwenthrith?" she asks, pressing a smiling kiss to Kwenthrith's cheek. "Or do you simply hesitate to lower yourself so in front of a mere earl, my Queen?"

Kwenthrith closes her eyes for a moment, pulling in a sharp breath, before laughing and taking Lagertha's mouth in another quick, rough kiss. Cupping Lagertha's face in one hand, she says, "Do not worry, Earl Ingstad. I have lowered myself further for far lesser rewards many times in the past. But I see no cause to rush."

Grinning, Lagertha takes Kwenthrith's hand in hers and, dragging it in between her legs where she's wet with want, she says, looking intently up at the queen, "I do."

She sighs with pleasure as Kwenthrith slips two fingertips inside of her, teasing at the swollen, sensitive rim of her opening, hips jerking forward to chase the elusive sensation.

As Kwenthrith finally falls to her knees between her legs, fingers running searchingly across the inked serpent on her thigh, Lagertha's chest heaves with a forceful exhale. By Freyja, it's a fine sight: Kwenthrith between her legs, reaching forward to kiss the inside of Lagertha's thigh, to trace the outer lines of the tattoo with her wet, warm tongue. It causes Lagertha to groan deeply, hands tightening into fists around the bedding.

Her arousal is like thunder within her, making her cunt slick and pulsing with it, and when Kwenthrith, laying all former hesitation aside, hoists one of her legs across her shoulder and leans forward to place a wet kiss at her core, Lagertha's so sensitive that the sensation of it is just shy of painful.

Shifting, Kwenthrith presses her face in closer, mouth opening against Lagertha in a shock of wet heat. She is sloppy and evidently unpracticed in her movements, but she is well aware where Lagertha wants her and seamlessly searches out the center of her pleasure with her tongue to work at it mercilessly.

The Queen is making low sounds deep in her throat as she licks at Lagertha's cunt like she's a feast and Kwenthrith a woman starved. Unable to help it, Lagertha rocks her hips downward against her, eyes squeezed shut at the pleasure sweeping through her, more thrilling than bloodlust. Her pulse is thudding in her ear like the hammer of Thor, punctuated by her own, deep and heavy groans.

Her breath leaves her chest for a moment as, all of a sudden, Kwenthrith surges forward, pushing her flat on the bed and her leg up to her chest, bending it at the knee to spread her open further for her mouth.

Lagertha's laughter dissolves into another groan as Kwenthrith grabs hold of her other thigh and delves back in, mouthing at her with vehement fervor. Lagertha twines her own fingers into the bend of her knee and bites down on her bottom lip hard, not to quench the sounds spilling forth, but to ground herself in the midst of the ardent onslaught of Kwenthrith's touch.

She finishes like that, biting back her cry against her own knee, back arching off the bed with the power of her climax. Kwenthrith doesn't pull back, doesn't stop, just pushes Lagertha closer to her and her unpracticed but eager mouth causes her to careen into another orgasm, making her laugh and keen breathlessly.

When the sensations washing over her grow too overpowering, Lagertha grabs a fistful of Kwenthrith's dark hair and wrenches her away only to be presented with the Queen, endlessly, wickedly beautiful, looking up at her and grinning with mouth shining with spit and slick in the dim light.

A tad clumsily with knees stiff and sore from the stone-tiled floor, Kwenthrith climbs up on the bed, covering Lagertha with her body to kiss her deeply again. The taste of soured wine is gone, replaced by that of sex.

Lagertha rolls to her side to mold their bodies more intimately together and Kwenthrith makes a pleased, eager sound against her mouth. Her hand slides from Lagertha's jaw, to the back of her neck, to the top of her dress. Gently undoing the knot and pulling the topmost row of lacing free, she says, voice breathless and a little shrill, "I think that rather piqued than satisfied my curiosity, Earl Ingstad." She uses her nose to brush aside a few strands pf Lagertha's hair and bites down on her throat. Her free hand come up to cup Lagertha's breast, fingers sharp and roughly.

Lagertha laughs and lets her own hand slide the already drooping shoulder of Kwenthrith's dress down even further, revealing just a hint of her bosom. She peppers small, soft kisses against Kwenthrith's collarbone, throat, jaw, and mouth, Kwenthrith tilting her chin up with a soft sigh.

"I am at your disposal, my Queen," Lagertha says and laughs anew at the way her words make Kwenthrith shiver visibly in her arms and then push Lagertha onto her stomach to reach the ties at the back of her dress more easily and get her out of it all the quicker.

She rests her cheek against her arm, closing her eyes against the sensation of Kwenthrith's touch wandering down her spine, and thinks of nothing but this moment stretching long into the night.

 

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://wariangle.tumblr.com/)!


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